


A Soldier, Not a Hero

by aerum (CatReginae), CatReginae



Category: Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Blood and Gore, I left them out, Minor Character Death, None of the boys or the people they care about, Not Beta Read, Sorry Sky and Four, This is the fic where Warriors murders people, Warriors angst, Warriors feels bad, warriors centric, will add more tags as i remember
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:28:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26259433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatReginae/pseuds/aerum, https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatReginae/pseuds/CatReginae
Summary: Warriors was a soldier, not a hero.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 88





	1. Too Familiar

**Author's Note:**

> This a [Linked Universe](https://linkeduniverse.tumblr.com/) fanfic. If you haven't checked it out, what are you doing? Go check it out! 
> 
> Trigger warning for the murder of minor human characters in somewhat graphic ways. There's no torture, but it is a battlefield, and it's not pretty.

It wasn't the first they've fought the Yiga, and Warriors doubted that it would be the last, given how bored Wild seemed to be around them or how he looked more exasperated at their appearance than anything else. It wasn't uncommon for them to be attacked at least once a day while they were in Wild's Hyrule, either by a singular fool or a small group that could still be easily be chased away. However, their newest encounter with the traitorous Sheikah was a bit different than most.

They were attacking alongside the horde of infected bokoblins and moblins. Regular bokoblins and moblins were annoying on their own, but when they were infected, it made the battle one of endurance, especially with a horde with numbers more akin to what would be found in Warrior's Hyrule, even though the bokoblins were Wild's. The last thing they needed were the five Yiga soldiers. Three of them had the big blades (Warriors knew they had a specific title but he didn't care to learn them) and two of them were archers. All five of them were teleporting around the field, looking for any of them that had their back turned for even half a second.

His decision was made. Warriors wasn't going to waste his time on the infected monsters unless they were in his way. He had bigger targets to take down.

The first one was luck. It was an archer who just happened to teleport near by to shoot at Legend, who was occupied with two moblins. Before they could release their arrows though, Warriors struck, stabbing his sword through their abdomen. He used his foot to help slide the body off the end of his blade. Usually, they would just teleport away if they found themselves injured, but this person had no chance to flee. Warriors didn't sit on it. He didn't have the time to think about the fact that he just killed a person, and the fact that it wasn't even his first time in that his position. One Yiga soldier down, four more to go.

* * *

_Muray Mullen wasn't well liked. Most people regarded him as rude and selfish. Link had a feeling that Muray was only in it for glory, and it wouldn't bother Link except that Muray went out of his way to disobey orders to execute his own plans, and those plans hardly got him the glory he sought. He didn't work well with others and it irritated many, including Link himself, who often had to bail him out of trouble, despite all the insults Muray would fling at him for trying to help._

_Not once did Link ever receive a 'thank you'. He quickly learned not to expect one._

_Link often found himself wondering why Muray wasn't dismissed. Somehow, he managed to always get off with a warning, or with laundry duty, but not once did dismissal ever seem to be on the table. It gave the rest of them a bad name._

_Link couldn't say that he was exactly shocked that Muray would use the mutiny to attack him. In fact, he was pretty sure that Muray sought him out specifically, to get a chance at glory even if it was a demon lord would give it to him. He shouted some insult that Warriors couldn't recall before they traded blows, their swords clashing together with a loud twang. Warriors jumped back and Muray took his chance to charge, swinging his sword as did so. Warriors dove to the ground, rolling to his feet. He pounced, stabbing Muray through his back._

_The irony wasn't lost on him._

* * *

The second one took too long to deal with, and the few precious minutes he spent chasing them was nothing short of frustrating. The others were strong, and none of them were easier to take down, but in a battlefield, skill wasn't everything, and Warriors hated the idea of making any battle longer than it had to be. He cut down the bokoblin without much thought – he wasn't even sure if he was killing them, just to thin out the hoard while he looked for his actual target. He was pretty sure the big blade guy was toying with him or was just trying to wear him out, giving Warriors a glance before teleporting away again, but Warriors found his chance when they spotted Wild.

Of course, Wild was their biggest target, given how he killed their leader or something (Wild claimed that their great and powerful leader died by accident more than anything) and they wanted him dead for just being the Hero long before that (again, according to Wild, though Warriors never doubted him). Warriors saw his opportunity when his target teleported behind Wild, their knees bent, sword held back for an incoming swing. He intercepted, sliding between Wild and the Yiga. Although he couldn't see their face, his sudden appearance was enough to throw off their stance. Warriors, without a moment's thought, went for the neck.

It wasn't enough to kill them, but it was enough to stun them. Warriors attacked again, landing a fatal blow the second time.

The Yiga fell to their knees, then collapsed to the ground, still bleeding from the neck and from the new hole in their gut. Warriors could barely tell the difference between the red of the uniform and their blood. Wild looked at him with wide eyes, but Warriors continued on his hunt. Two down, three more to go.

* * *

_Kieran Smith was one of his sparring partners. He was the one who stuck out the most to Warriors, as he was the one he fought the most and Kieran was one of the ones that Warriors let himself get close to. They used to stay up late, trading blows and pushing each other to their limits, stopping only because their captains and generals told them to stop and hit the hay. Sometimes, when they had no choice but to take a break after long hours of practice, they shared snippets of their lives. Warriors found himself speaking about homesickness and about the family he rarely got to visit, while Kieran would tell him about why he joined the military, why he decided to just leave his former life behind._

_Kieran was the first to attack him. Warrior' felt the hurt and confusion the same time as the rest of his troops, or well, the people who stayed on his side as the people they trained with, ate with, and slept beside struck them. The hurt and confusion cost him a precious second against an opponent who knew him well, and Link let out a cry of pain as Kieran's spear grazed his leg. It was probably the exact reaction Kieran was hoping for. It was the opening he needed._

_It was like a switch went off in Warriors' mind, from confused and hurt to calm and collected. He had to stop the Gate of Souls, he had a war against a witch to win, he people he had to defend, and Kieran wasn't going to stop him. His body was quick to retaliate, going straight for Kieran's throat and ending his life in seconds. They sparred together for at least a year, and in the end, Link killed him within seconds. Kieran didn't even get a chance to regret his actions._

_Sometimes, Warriors regretted him killing so quickly. Two years after the war, and Warriors couldn't figure out why. Why would Kieran turn on him? Did all their time training mean nothing? Was it a farce the entire time?_

_Was anything about their relationship real?_

* * *

Warriors found the other archer, and the fact that one of their arrows managed to hit Twilight only made the fire under his ass burn even hotter. He found the archers to be more annoying than the ones with the blades because they were harder to track down and pin point as they seemed to teleport away even more often than their blade counterparts. And why wouldn't they? The specialized in ranged combat.

This one surprised him, though. They teleported right in front of him as he was running and fired two arrows at the same at him, much like Wild could do. He vaguely wondered just  _where_ Wild learned that handy trick of his, but Wild didn't seem to have many memories regarding his training. Maybe they were aware of the fact that Warriors  ~~ took down ~~ killed two of their clansmen already and wanted their revenge. Warriors didn't know and didn't care. It made it easier when he didn't have to chase them down. He managed to dodge one of the arrows by veering to the right, and the other hit his shoulder, bouncing off his armour with a quiet plink. 

He ran through them with his sword before they had the chance to teleport away. He made sure they were dead, then continued to weave through the bokoblins and moblins. Three down, two more to go.

* * *

_Gregory Sullivan was his bunk mate, back when he was just a trainee, and well, that was the only way he stood out to Link. He was a quiet man, with an unassuming appearance. While they were in the barracks, Gregory preferred to stay in his bunk, only mumbling half-hearted answered whenever Warriors tried to make some small talk with him just to pass the time. There wasn't even much Link could recall about him, other than the fact that he came from a small farming village, and that he kept up with everybody else without any fuss. Not once did he ever complain about the training._

_But it was the quiet ones you have to be careful around._

_Gregory tried to attack him from behind. Link side stepped the attack, and grabbed the spear, yanking it out of his opponent's hand. It felt completely foreign in his right hand but nonetheless, he decided to use it, spinning it his hand so that the spearhead faced the correct direction, and driving it inside his former bunk mate's stomach. He didn't spare him a second thought. He had to find the turncoat leaders and put a stop to their mutiny. He need to stop the demon lord, and if people were in the way, they had to be stopped too._

_Sometimes, Warriors wondered if Gregory always held the resentment in his eyes._

* * *

Though both archers were killed, he didn't feel as though he could slow down, even though his legs were beginning to ache and he felt the ever familiar pain from a stitch at his side. He ignored the pain and continued, but he was suddenly forced to stop, jumping back to avoid a wide swing from one of the remaining Yiga soldiers. While having one right in front of him helped last time, this time, he wasn't as prepared. The archer required some distance. The ones with swords? Not as much. He felt the air move as the blade sliced into the air, right where he was standing just a moment prior.

He barely had time to land on his feet to find some semblance of a defensive stance.

The next swing collided with his sword, ringing loudly. His sword shook as the Yiga applied pressure and pushed, forcing all of their weight into his sword. Eventually, they broke apart as the Yiga's sword slide down his own and they both jumped back, seizing each other up. Warriors glared at the mask, and charged again.

He found himself engaged in deadly dance. The Yiga, surprisingly, stayed engaged with him. Warriors knew they could do a whole lot of things with magic – he's seen them split the ground apart, and he knew the swords could somehow attack at a distance. Instead though, the Yiga participated in their deadly dance, where one misstep came at the cost of their life. For what reason, Warriors had no idea, but he was in too deep to back off.

The Yiga's foot slipped, their stance faulting ever so slightly. Warriors took his chance and ducked to the Yiga's side, his sword cutting them deeply as he pivoted on his feet. They spun on their heels quickly, almost like Warriors' attack had no effect, and they locked blades again.

“You still call yourself a hero after all of this?” they asked. The voice was higher pitched than Warriors expected for somebody with their big frame.

“I'm just a solider,” Warriors mumbled, as he managed another slash at their leg, on the same side of their body as he managed to hit earlier. Their leg slipped out from underneath them. Warriors held his blade above his head and brought it down.

* * *

_Dan Hillman has been a captain for many years, long before Warriors ever stepped foot on the training grounds or in the barracks for the first time. He was one of the first captains that Warriors met, and all he ever knew was that the captain was a man who genuinely cared for his subordinates. He even took care to compliment and be attentive to people outside of his platoon. Anybody who crossed his path was greeted with a warm smile and a question about how their day was. Warriors could remember looking up to him, admiring his skills and his leadership, hoping that one day, he could inspire people in the way Captain Hillman did. Link never worked as a subordinate of him, but they did occasionally work side by side, captain to captain._

_Captain Hillman was a turncoat leader. His face was full of anger that Link never saw before, and his ire was completely focused on Link when he spotted him. For a moment, it shook his entire world. Was the man before him that good at hiding his emotions, or was it that Warriors just bad at reading people?_

_The former captain drew his blade and attacked Warriors on sight. Hillman's sword bounced off his shield, sending shock waves through Link' arm. Link ignored the moment of pain, dodging Hillman's followup attack. Hillman wasn't the quickest soldier, relying mostly on brute strength and either killing or incapacitating his opponent with the first hit. He struggled against those who quick on their feet, and unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong captain to attack. It wasn't difficult at all for Link dodge his attack once more and before Hillman could recover from his missed attack, Link buried his sword deep within his flesh._

_Captain Hillman, a man Link once looked up, collapsed to the ground._

_"Do you think you can still call yourself a hero, Link?"_

_He was silent after that. Link saw no reason to respond to him anyway._

_It was never about a title._

* * *

Before Warriors could even look for the last Yiga, a white, burning pain erupted from his back, burning even brighter when he felt something that shouldn't have been there twist and turn. It was utterly agony. Somebody swiped his feet out from underneath him, and his sword slipped out of his grip. He didn't have the energy or the strength to even reach for it. _Existing_ _hurt._ He was no shape to defend himself.

He let them do the very thing he was trying to prevent them from doing to the others. They attacked him, while his back was turned. He was so busy trying to stop them from attacking his brothers that he left himself vulnerable. _You idiot. Why did you leave yourself open? You know better. You were trained better._

Warriors spat blood out of his mouth.

The Yiga walked in front of him, then crouched down, pulling Warrior's head up by yanking on his hair. He stared into the mask, despite the mask being emotionless. He spat blood again, and though he got nowhere near the Yiga's face, he was satisfied with his effort nonetheless. The Yiga growled and slammed his face into the ground.

“Leave him alone!”

The pressure on his head disappeared suddenly, replaced by a gentle, firm hand on his shoulder. He turned his head, breathing in fresh air. His back stung as the hand on his shoulder moved to his back, pulling at his tunic.

“HYRULE! HYRULE! GET OVER HERE! HE NEEDS HELP!”

Was that Wind? Warriors couldn't tell anymore. His head was spinning too much, the world was too blurry, his head was pounding too much. He could see the darkness closing in from the edges of his vision before it took over.


	2. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He always wanted to save people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments in the first chapter! I hope you all enjoy this one just as much.

Link sat in the back of the of his parent's shop with a threaded needle in his hands, his eyebrows scrunched as he slowly stitched the tear in his favourite shirt back together. He wasn't quite skilled enough to work in the front of his shop like his parents and his older sister Jodi did, but he was good enough to sit in the back, patching up his family's clothing. He was expected to fix his own clothing and to fix all the tears or add colourful patches to his younger siblings', something that neither Jodi or his parents had time to do.

The bell at the front door rang. Link usually ignored the bell when his parents or Jodi were in the room, but when he heard the booming voice of his uncle, he was quick to put down his project and rushed to the door, careful to dodge all of the tables in the way as he did so.

Uncle Arnie was his mother's brother, and a captain in the army. He often arrived in uniform, and merely chuckled as Link asked what every bit of it did, or what it meant. Link could remember always looking up to his uncle. As his parents would say, he was completely mesmerized by him. He didn't know what it was about his uncle that always excited him and left Link staying up for too late at night to interrogate his uncle about stories about how he saved lives or the big, bad monsters he faced.

He was only ten, just a couple days shy of being eleven, but he couldn't wait until he was old enough to join the military himself. Link wanted to be the kind of person his uncle was. He wanted to save lives, to protect his small town, and to protect his parents and all of his siblings. Link didn't mind working in his parent's tailoring shop until then, they needed the help, but the military captured most of his imagination.

“ _Stop! If you keep healing him, you're going to pass out too!”_

Link couldn't help but to notice that his uncle was wearing his regular, civilian clothing instead of the uniform that he usually arrived in. He also noticed that he was trying, and failing, to hide something behind his back. His father was doing a bad job of hiding a smile, and he was suddenly very interested in the colour of the fabric he was holding.

“Ah! Link! How are you doing, kiddo?”

“Good!” he answered with a broad smile. “I'll be eleven soon! My birthday is next week!” Then it would only be seven years until he could enlist. The magical number 'eighteen' couldn't come soon enough.

“ _But we don't have any potions or fairies! If it gets infected...”_

“I've heard! In fact, I got a little gift for you. An early birthday present, since I'll probably won't be here next week,” he said, pulling out something wrapped in light blue cloth from behind his back. It was rectangular and hefty, and when he pulled away the cloth, he found a box. He popped open the lid and found a wooden sword. His heart raced. He was practically vibrating on the spot. Link looked up to his father, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Arnie already spoke to us. Your mom and I... we don't necessarily like the idea of you joining the military one day, but we want you to be prepared for when that day comes.”

“And I'll be here for a couple of days to teach you the basics! Then you can practice on your own until I'm able to come back. How about that?”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Link put the sword down, leaning it against one of the work benches, and tightly hugged Arnie around the waist. When he was done with Arnie, he was sure to give his father a big hug too.

“ _Then he'll need your expertise.”_

Link couldn't wait to become the best swordsman he could be. He was one step closer to his dream.

* * *

The older Link got, the more estranged he became with his older sister, Jodi. His parents were... not exactly alright with his decision, but they did their best to support him despite their own anxieties. His younger siblings, two sisters and a brother, didn't seem too interested or too worried, and his parents seemed glad that they didn't have the same aspirations that he did. Jodi, on the other hand, was determined to change his mind. It didn't matter what reason Link gave, like how important it was to him he could protect her or how it felt like it was something that he _had_ to do, Jodi wasn't going to leave the matter alone without a fight.

When he turned seventeen, their arguments began to become more heated and their parents were at a loss of what to do. Sometimes, Link ended up storming out of the shop and wouldn't return until dark, only for Jodi to still be mad at him.

They were in the shop alone. Their parents closed up the shop halfway through their normal hours to go spend the rest of their day together, as it was their anniversary. Just because the shop was closed though, didn't mean that there wasn't work to do. Jodi was creating a piece to sell from scratch, while Link was working on a piece his father started, slowly replacing the pins holding the fabric together with stitches.

“'Hero' is just a stupid title anyway. You're just going to get yourself killed for something that ultimately means nothing,” Jodi mumbled as she cut away at a blue piece of fabric that was longer than the desk she was working at. It draped over every side of the table even as she cut through it. Link frowned.

“I don't care about a title or any of that! And saving people will always mean something. That's worth the trouble and all of the risks.”

“ _Guys! It's a portal!”_

“ _Now?”_

“Is it? What if you don't come back? What if you have to kill people? You saw what happened to Uncle Arnie! How can you still be okay with following his footsteps?” Jodi was raising her voice. It was a good thing they were the only ones in the shop. Their siblings were at home, above the shop, and they were unlikely to hear them.

Uncle Arnie. He was honourably discharged after losing a leg in a battle that killed many of troops. His physical wounds healed long ago, but the wounds on his heart and mind didn't heal so quickly. Uncle Arnie was still Uncle Arnie for the most part. He was still the man who trained him how to use a sword and had a laugh that the whole town could hear, but he was also a man who still grieving for the troops he couldn't save. His uncle was still haunted by a battle that took place two years ago. He was happy and cheery during the day, but quiet and brooding at night and he barely slept.

Link asked him, on one of his many visits since that particular battle, if he ever regretted being involved in the military. For a moment, it did shake Link's world. Ever since he got that wooden sword for his eleventh birthday, he never considered any other career, and seeing what happened to his uncle made him realize that there were risks. He knew people could get hurt, but it didn't hit him until his uncle was discharged. He could get hurt. He might have to kill people to save others. He will have to watch people die. His uncle laughed fondly, and his answer was simple.

He said he could never regret trying to help people. Link had a feeling there was more to that, but that was all his uncle was willing to say, and it seemed like his uncle meant it too.

“I know what the risks are, Jodi. It hasn't changed my mind, though.”

Jodi put the scissors down. “How? How doesn't that affect you?” she asked quietly, before turning to face Link. “Don't you realize we care about you? If something happened to you, if you didn't come back because you just had to be a stupid hero... I... I... don't know what I would do. What are we supposed to do if you died? How are we supposed to explain it the younger ones?” Her voice cracked, and he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. “You're such an idiot!”

“ _Yeah, just outside! See? Maybe this our chance to get Warriors some medical attention!”_

“ _Or it could lead us straight into another battle. That would be our luck.”_

“ _I'm not sure we have a choice.”_

“I know,” he whispered. “Jodi, I... I'm not going to die on the battlefield. I will come back. I promise.”

“You can't keep that promise and you know it!”

“Won't stop me from trying! Look, Jodi, I appreciate the concern, but you can't change my mind. You can't understand how badly I want – _need_ – this.” He doubted he could even properly explain it. He didn't just want to chalk it all up to some sort of destiny, because that was one of those things that sounded better in his head than out loud.

Jodi glared at him as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She huffed, and marched out of the shop without another word.

* * *

Link came back from the battle shaken, probably just as shaken as everybody else who survived came through to the end with him instead of against him. He could see it in their stance and the way they nearly dragged their weapons on the ground because they barely had any strength left. He could see it in the wary glances they gave others, wondering about their intentions. The battle sapped them both of their physical and mental stamina and eroded the moral that Link strove to keep up into the dirt. Even Proxi, who was usually chipper and chatty, was quiet, sitting atop of his shoulder.

Even back at camp, the battle didn't feel like it was over. The battle was over. He killed the traitors, defeated the demon lord, and closed the gate. All they had to do was hold on until they could regroup with the others.

 _It was over_ , he repeated to himself. It just didn't feel like it was over, even when he was in a bedroll, staring up at darkness as he tried to calm his mind and let his tired body rest. Link frowned, and ultimately decided that sleep wasn't coming that night. He grabbed his sword and left his tent, ducking into the nearby forest for peace. Not even Proxi followed him.

Ever since he was a teen, he would take his wooden sword whenever he couldn't sleep, training in the backyard and returning his room when he was finally tired. Even if it failed him on a night that shook his world to the core, at least he could get in some much needed training. Maybe if he was stronger, faster – _better –_ he could have ended the war before it got to that point. He could have saved many more lives, not just the lives of the traitors, but the lives of the people they managed to kill before he ended the mutiny.

He was a failure as a hero, not that he ever enjoyed or wanted the title that was tossed upon his shoulders. He didn't save lives like he dreamed of doing as a child. He took them with his own hands. Even if he didn't stab somebody with a sword, he still led them to their deaths everyday, either because he was a couple of seconds too late or because they died protecting the hero.

“ _His wound is infected. Link, get some water from the spring. Luda, bring the clean bandages.”_

A hero didn't take lives, especially as ruthlessly as he did. He treated the turncoats like they were mere bokoblins and not the people who he used to save, used to train with, used to sleep beside, and used to respect. Link didn't just strike them dow but made an example of them too, showing everybody who survived that the end of his sword was a bad place to be. He wasn't proud of it when he thought back to it, but it was what he had to do. Regaining order had a steep price, and as a captain, it was his job to get his troops under control. He needed unity if he was going to tackle Ghirahim and the gate.

He wasn't a hero, even though everybody else called him one, even the goddess themselves if the mark on his hand was anything to go by. Link felt like somebody who was permanently stained with the blood of so many weren't worthy of such an honourable title, even if all the blood he spilled saved the lives of thousands more. A real hero could have ended the war by now. A real hero wouldn't have lost the respect of their troops. A real hero was... somebody better than he was.

At the end of the day, Link was just a soldier who had more responsibilities than most. He was a knight who took an oath to protect the people of Hyrule, and nothing more. It never had to be more. Link was just proud to be a knight. Why did that have to change?

All Link wanted to do was to save lives. He wanted to protect and help people. He just wanted to make sure his loved ones were safe and had a peaceful world to grow up in. He didn't want be a hero, let alone The Hero. He didn't care about the glory or about making it into the history books. He didn't care if people recognized him on the streets or if they showered him with gifts or prizes. He just wanted to help people.

“ _Is he going to be alright?”_

“ _The infection is bad, but I think he'll pull through. I think we got him help just in time.”_

“ _... If you say so.”_

How did it turn out like it did? What did he do wrong to make people he liked betray him like that? Did they always show signs of discontentment and he was too busy to realize how they were feeling? What happened? What did he do wrong?

Link swung his sword, killing enemies that only existed in his mind over and over and over again until his body couldn't handle it anymore, and he collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

* * *

The Master Sword felt like the answer to many of his problems. With all the years he spent training combined with the divine might of the Master Sword, he felt like he was a one-man army. He was practically _invincible_. Nothing came close to touching him, or most of all, his troops.

Link would win the war on his own if it meant nobody else had to risk their lives, and he probably could, so long as he had the sword that could seal away the darkness in his hand. If the title of a hero gave him the Master Sword, then he would finally accept it.

He would use the title and the Master Sword to save everybody.

And then it was like Cia took a needle to a bubble, and his entire world burst.

Link's heart fell when he locked swords with his shadow, red glowing eyes filled with pride and arrogance staring him down. His desire to save and protect people became warped and twisted, good intentions that went haywire and became something to be feared instead. He took down the shadow, and panicked when he saw more take its place, running off in the direction of his allies. His problem, his struggles that came with the title he was given, wasn't their problem and nobody deserved to be hurt because of it. If those shadows ~~killed~~ hurt anybody, it was all his fault.

But when he saw that everybody was willing to still protect him at the end, that they were worried about a friend and not just the hero, made him feel lighter than he had for a long time.

“ _Don't you dare die on us, Warriors... not when you guys made me get all attached and everything. I don't know if you can hear me or not, but you better not tell anyone I said that, got it?”_

Link still grappled with the title and whether or not he deserved it, but at least he wasn't alone. It was because of them that he survived long enough to learn that he wasn't alone, that he could lean on others sometimes, that he didn't have to shoulder all the responsibilities and mistakes that came with war, and that he had to keep a more level head. Just _maybe_ he was a little cocky and reckless. They're were lucky that his cockiness didn't hurt anyone else before the Shadow Links appeared.

His thoughts were still a confusing maze. If nothing else, Link hated the title even more. He accepted it and he let go to his head, but he couldn't just throw it away either. It was his title that gave others hope, and it was still a responsibility that he couldn't just turn his back on.

And thankfully, he wasn't alone.

* * *

“Some hero I am,” Link mumbled, staring up at the ceiling of his tent. Staring at the ceiling was about all he had the energy to do since he used what little he had arguing with Impa. Even if he had more energy, there was a child sitting beside his temporary cot who was very determined to make sure Link was resting like Zelda and Impa were forcing him to. He knew what Young Link, or Mask as many called him, could do on the battlefield and he knew that arguing with him was a bad idea. He didn't know who put so much strength into that tiny body of his, but whoever it was, Link feared them.

“What makes you say that?” Mask asked, his very bright blue eyes staring at him. “It looked like you were starting to...” he looked up as struggled to find the words, “not mind so much when somebody called you a hero.”

“I... lost!” Link tried to get up, but his very painful and very angry wounds made it difficult to do so. Ganondorf beat him into the ground and then some. Three times. In the end, he just settled deeper into his cot, folding his arms on top of his chest to rest since he could do little else. “I let Zelda get hurt. I let Ganondorf get the full Triforce. If I couldn't beat him when he only had the Triforce of Power, how am I supposed to beat him when he has the full Triforce now? Everybody is in danger and I can't even get of bed!”

He didn't dare to think about what Ganondorf could do with the power he held and it could take days, weeks even, before he was in any sort of condition to fight Ganondorf. Lives could be lost in seconds. What could one do with a day? A week? Was there even go to be a Hyrule to save after that? Link made a lot of costly mistakes over the war, but losing a battle that determined who would get the Triforce was a mistake he couldn't afford to make.

And yet, there he was, laying in a cot and too weak to get out of it.

Mask frowned. “Just because he has the Triforce doesn't mean he can't be defeated. He won that battle, yes, but you're still alive and that was a big mistake on his part. As long as you're alive, you have a chance to win, and you have to take it. Hyrule's only doomed when you give up for good.”

“ _Wars... please... just wake up.”_

Link didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. Mask was the kid who dumped beetles in somebody's bedroll because he was mad at them, but he could also manage an air of somebody who was much older and wiser. He didn't know any other kid who could say the words that came out his mouth and even after spending some time with Mask, helping him navigate a world that was not his own, it still surprised him when Mask spoke like that. Link found himself staring at the ceiling again, letting his words sinking in.

“Nobody's mad, you know,” Mask said after a while of complete silence. Not even the insects made a peep until Mask spoke again. It was eerie.

“... huh?”

“Nobody's mad that you lost, because it wasn't just on you. There was a lot of us on the battlefield, not just you. Don't take the whole blame when everybody failed and right now, everybody's just worried about you. I'm not going to let you be the only one mad at you,” Mask said with a huff, crossing his short arms in front of his small chest. He was pouting, and even though he tried to look a little threatening, Link couldn't help but to chuckle a little, despite his bruised, or maybe even broken, ribs. It was the same kind of look he often got from his younger siblings whenever he said 'no' to them. “What?”

“You... you're adorable.” He had no idea why it was so funny to him, just that it was. It was the kind of laughed he needed for a while.

“Am not!”

Link wheezed as Mask puffed his chest out a bit, trying his hardest to look like the older, wiser man that he sounded like sometimes. “You know you are! You totally use it to your advantage. I've seen you!”

“Nuh-huh!”

“You sound exactly like my younger siblings.”

“ _Please... just wake up.”_

“Just... go to sleep!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baby Time still needs to work on his Face of Disappointment TM.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to finish the fic first. That didn't happen. We'll see what happens.


End file.
